The Morning After
by swishandflickwit
Summary: Even in sleep the light is lulled to her and once again, as he is more recently inclined to think, he believes there is a god out there that sent him this angel to save him from his own demons. But he knows better, it is just Emma and her light drawing him in and making him want to be a better man, no longer a shadow of himself but someone more concrete, worthy to stand beside her.


He wakes before she does.

She is on her stomach, arms curled in and face half buried into the pillow. It is a telling position, he knows, an unconscious sign of her still being closed off but they've only been together for a night and he hopes to change this gradually. Despite the amount of progress she has undergone in opening herself to love he understands that these things take time when it comes to her. It's all right, he thinks to himself, for she is a challenge and he's always been patient after all.

Her steady acceptance of him is enough for now and, if last night was anything to go by… Well, let's just say that he's always believed that good things come to those who wait. And Emma to him is more than good and more than worth the wait. She is everything.

He gently turns to his side, props himself on his elbow and watches as the sun bathes her with its healthy gleam, its glistening rays splaying itself across her back. Even in sleep the light is lulled to her and once again, as he is more recently inclined to think, he believes there is a god out there that sent him this angel to save him from his own demons.

But he knows better, it is just Emma —_ her_ light drawing him in and making him want to be a better man, no longer a shadow of himself but someone more concrete, worthy to stand beside her.

He will be her guardian as she is his savior.

He takes his stump and runs it lightly from her hair to her bare back, down to the base of her spine and, lost in the silkiness of her skin, he unknowingly wakes her for she moves. Hands going from curled into her chest to curled up under her pillow and he sees her face emerge.

She smiles.

"Morning," she whispers, voice still carrying a touch of sleep.

"Good morning, love." He whispers back, not wanting to break the bubble they have encased themselves in with overexcitement. He runs his stump along a tendril of hair obscuring her face then moves it near her ear. "Did I wake you?" He mutters, an apologetic look crossing his features.

But she shakes her head and grins lazily at him.

He grins back as she turns to her side to mirror his position, sheets pooling at her waist and giving him a lovely view of her chest. "Then what is it?"

"I'm just glad you're still here."

Before she can expand, Killian has her on her back and his grin widens at her responding giggle.

Her giggles are cut short however, when he bends down and kisses her. It is slow and long and languid and warm, much like their current bath under the radiance of the sun. He pulls away just enough to plant another chaste kiss to her forehead, her eyes, her nose and the corner of her mouth before murmuring, "I'm not going anywhere Swan," with a smirk playing at his lips.

But then he looks at her and all mirth drops from his face, a seriousness taking over.

"I once told your father that the Jolly Roger is my home." At this, Emma's features also take on a solemnity as she cups his face with both her hands, caressing his cheeks lightly. He glances across the planes of her face, reading the sorrow she feels on his behalf along the frown lines between her brows and the downturn of her lips at the thought of him having lost his home for her. But he smoothens the contours littering her forehead, runs a digit along the apple of her cheek, traces her lips with the fingers of his right hand before continuing.

"But Emma," (and he smiles) "you are my home now."

He knows he's supposed to take it slow but he needs her to be aware of the depth of his feelings and after this, the knowledge is hers to do with as she pleases. But tears spring to her eyes and she kisses him then. A shuddering breath leaves him as he feels his own eyes water and he knows that right now, it is okay.

"Killian," is all she says yet her tears, her touch as she outlines the shapes of his face and her answering smile, so bright it could rival the sun, say so much more than the breath of his name across her lips.

He takes a moment to appreciate the picture she presents him, naked but wrapped in sunlight, looking at him with adoration and something close to love and stores it away in the part of his heart that now belongs to her, he will remember her like this and for always, until the last of his breath leaves him.

He splays his hand across her chest, feeling her heart beat, strong and steady.

"Has anyone ever told you how utterly beautiful you are?"

He touches his lips to the place where her heart resides and she holds him there, tightly to her, shaking her head in wonder and a little disbelief at the pirate's faith in her.

"Just beautiful," he whispers, carving it into her skin with his kisses and making her believe.

* * *

**AN: I just needed fluff, ok? Haha! God I love this ship...**


End file.
